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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607232">Falling For The Wrong One</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingWinston/pseuds/KingWinston'>KingWinston</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>13 Reasons Why (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Best Friends, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Reunions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:54:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingWinston/pseuds/KingWinston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Monty hasn't heard from Scott in months and now he's back... What could he possibly want?</p><p>This story is written in Monty's POV.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Montgomery de la Cruz/Scott Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Falling For The Wrong One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonkyber/gifts">crimsonkyber</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for Isabella to apologise for all my past sins, hope you like it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Falling For The Wrong One</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>You know what I think is stupid? How he thinks he can ignore me for the whole of summer, all of fall and then turn up in December, text me asking to meet and think that I'll show up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I needed him when Bryce left me, when everyone else left me because that kid Clay Jensen and Jessica Davis spread all that shit about me, telling everyone what I did. It was all to protect Bryce. And Scotty, whom I trusted the most, he was the one who ratted me out. He's the one I'm most pissed about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shouldn't be meeting him, I should let him stand out here in the cold until he freezes and realises that he could have at least sent a postcard from whatever fancy college he goes to now. We used to be friends but he completely forgot about me, like I meant nothing to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His text said to meet at our place and I knew what he meant the second I read it. This is where I used to hide out when my father drank too much and I feared for my life. I felt safe here, especially when Scott would stop by to bring me food and whatever else. I always told him to leave me alone and he always stayed with me. Talking all night until I forgot about all that shit going on in my life. That doesn't change the fact that he left in the end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I've been sitting in my Jeep for the past half an hour, wondering if I should go meet him or drive back home. What will it say about me if I go meet him? That I can't even stand my ground? That I'm just this lapdog that follows everyone around as Bryce said? I don't wanna prove Bryce right, he can stay at that snotty boy’s school where they all bully him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But just like Bryce, I don't have many friends and Scott is willing to talk to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glance at the time on my dashboard, 11:29 PM. Only Scotty would think to meet me this late at night. Especially in the winter, it gets dark at like six so I can barely see a thing when I get out of the car. The cold air makes my eyes water, they say it's supposed to snow tomorrow morning. Snow means snowballs and snowballs means I have something to throw at people at school tomorrow. It’sMonday tomorrow and I should be sleeping but instead, I sneaked out to talk to someone who hasn't reached out in months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have to flash my phone so I can see better and not step on anything. Scott included, the fucker is like 5'5, I could accidentally step on him and squash him. Always uses to tease him about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nice to see you smiling!" someone shouts and I freeze. I wasn't smiling, why would I be? And then a light flashes in my face and I squint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck?" I turn away, rub my eyes and grunt. I was supposed to be mad at him but I can already hear him chucking and it feels so natural to go back to being just us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was starting to think you weren't gonna show," Scott says a little quieter now and he clears his throat. He didn't blind me with the light but I still see bright spots when I open my eyes and try to look at something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes my eyes a moment to adjust and spot him. He looks just like I remember, except maybe a little older. But he has the same smile, the same eyes and he's wearing a black jean jacket that makes him look like a total douchebag, one of those college frat guys I came across when Estela went college visiting with me a while back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was thinking about it," I admit not letting myself give in too easily but at the same time, I don't want him to think that him leaving did anything to me. "Thought you'd have a beard or something by now," I say and I divert my eyes away from his when a smile breaks out on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I shaved," he says while rubbing his chin with his hand. He's hoping for more conversation, maybe a smile or a laugh, anything to ease the tension between us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So what are we doing here? What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing here?" I ask and I walk past him. It's pitch black but I know this place off by heart, this is the place where those bastard cornered me and asked me for a box of polaroids that I had no idea about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have some time off, wanted to see you," Scott says and he quickly clears his throat again. I hate that weird feeling in my stomach, it's forming as we speak and my throat tightens just thinking that he missed me. But there's gotta be another reason, there's no way he came here just for me. I'm not that important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sit down on an old crate, testing it out at first because the last thing I need right now is to sit down and break it so Scotty can tease me about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So how are you?" he continues when I make no attempt to carry the conversation on any further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My dad still beats the shit out of me if that's what you're asking," I say and big mistake, it just makes it a thousand times more awkward. He rubs the back of his neck and he takes a few more steps towards me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," he says and he stops and looks down at his shoes. Then it goes silent, dark and silent and cold and I hate myself for ruining it already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I'm good," I add and I sigh. "You just get used to some things." Like I got used to having Scott around and having a group of friends that would be there for me every second of every day. In reality, I was there for them while they treated me like a backup option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't deserve that," Scott says in a serious tone and he puts down a crate next to mine and sits down too. I rest my elbows on my knees so I can look down at the ground and not have to face him. Things don't get better just because someone says 'I'm sorry, you deserve better'. No matter how much we want them to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don't reply because I disagree, sometimes I think it's a punishment for all the bad shit I did. My dad used to beat me real bad but then I got arrested for all that stuff I did for Bryce and he started looking at me differently. He used to be okay at times but he's not anymore, I'm scared to be in the same room as him in case he lashes out again. I didn't do so well last time that happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Scott says softly and I flinch when his hand touches my knee. I've never moved my leg away faster, his hand slides off my lap and he looks away guiltily. "Sorry." I feel like one of those chicks hanging out with Jessica Davis, the ones that flinch every time a guy walks past them because they think all guys are rapists. I didn't mean to move, it was a reflex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I got you something," Scott says with a small laugh and then he searches through the pockets in his jacket. I hear rustling, something like a wrapper and I turn my head so I can look at him. He proudly pulls a KitKat out of his pocket and passes it to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where's the other half?" I ask him carefully taking the chocolate in my hand. I mean food is food, I'll eat it but whose mouth has been on this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott blushes. "Hey, you kept me waiting and I was hungry man," he says and I eat the KitKat bar in two bites. I swallow down the last of it just to see that Scotty is still creepily smiling at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've got a little something," he says and then he leans forward, invades my personal space and swipes his thumb across my bottom lip. There's nothing there, I licked my lips clean because no food goes to waste. And yet he puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks on whatever imaginary something he thought he saw. I have to look away because it's getting hard to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So how's college?" I ask him in return and I stuff the wrapper into the pocket of my jeans. "Find someone to replace me yet?" He laughs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>make him laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright. But I could never find a 'replacement'," Scott says with a small shake of his head. "You're impossible to replace." The smile never leaves his face and he continues looking into my eyes with that stupid grin on his face. This is the reason why he always gets what he wants, he's used to it being the youngest child and all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I try not to read too much into what he's saying, he's just sucking up to me and probably messing with me too. He might not be here for long, this doesn't really mean what I want it to mean. "Same goes for you I guess," I say simply and the short silence is back again until Scott has this amazing idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wanna go on a walk?" he asks and he stands up from the crate and puts his hands in his pockets as he waits for my answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're kidding, right?" It's almost midnight and even though I'm not worried about not getting enough sleep for school, I am a bit worried about walking around here while it's pitch black and no one knows where we are. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Scared of the dark Monty?" Scott teases me making a face at me. "Aww, is it past your bedtime already?" It is actually, my dad wants me home by seven every day now that he thinks I'm good for nothing and all I do is fight. Good thing he was asleep so I could easily sneak out through my window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up," I huff and I stand up too. He's only a year older than me and he acts like I'm a kid just because he's in college while I'm still in highschool. I've kinda had this idea that I'd join him at college, bump into him one day and we'd pick up from where we left off. That's the only thing that was keeping me going and motivating me to finish highschool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a few steps away from me while still facing me and when he sees that I start following him, he pulls his phone out and lights the way with the flashlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where are we going?" I ask and I yawn as a shiver passes through my body. I didn't think to wear warm clothes, just the usual T-shirt, flannel and the football jacket on top. I put my hands in the pockets of the jacket and I try to keep myself warm as best as I can before Scotty notices. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Forward," Scott says and I roll my eyes behind his back. No idea where he's taking me but I'm already scared, it better be a warm place with food or I'm gonna be very pissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I walk a few steps behind him so I can keep my distance but he keeps looking back to make sure I'm still there and I haven't left. "Walk faster," he says. As if the speed of my walking is the reason why we're not walking side by side. I speed up a little, now only walking two steps behind him and we're walking away from the hobo hotel and my car. I wonder what time I'm gonna get home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Couldn't you have texted me earlier? I'm so fucking tired right now," I groan and I rub my eyes with my hand again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't fall asleep on me, I'm not carrying you home," Scott tells me and he slows down and joins my side. He glances at me again and I make sure not to look at him, I'm rubbing my eyes so hard that it's starting to hurt but anything is better than having to look at Scott. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I… I didn't know if you'd want to see me, so I… it took some time before I finally decided to text you," Scott says and then we reach some stone steps that he goes down quickly whereas I take my time stepping on every step and not missing any. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn't want to see Scott, in fact, I was pissed at him just before I saw him. I should still be pissed at him because he left and he clearly knows he did something wrong if he was worried to see me. But I can't stay mad at him, it's just impossible and that's the way it's always been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're almost there," Scott says, interrupting the silence before I can get a word in.. I would have liked to reply and ask him why he never reached out sooner but I can't find the words to do so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I've been in this place a million times and there's nothing interesting around here unless he wants to drag me to a sewer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crushed can clatters around my feet and I distract myself by kicking it as I walk. It gets in Scott's way one time and he kicks it back to me and smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We kick the can to one another, getting more and more enthusiastic with every kick. I kick it hard and it ends up somewhere far far away. "Nice kick," Scott laughs at me. Then I notice that he stopped walking and he's staring somewhere to his right. "We're here," he says quietly and then he slowly takes a few steps forward. I still can’t see where we are exactly or what we’re walking towards but I follow Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then I see it. A black Porsche. One of the many things Scott and I had in common was our appreciation for cars. Even though I drive that rusty old Jeep, I know a little about expensive cars and owning a black Porsche has been my dream for as long as I can remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My feet stay glued to the ground for a split second and then I rush forward to be closer to the car. I don’t dare touch it, it’s way too expensive and perfect for me to be touching it but I do admire it. It feels like a dream, Scott is here and my dream car is here and I’m scared that I’ll blink and it’ll be all gone, I’ll wake up in my boring bedroom back home just to go to a school where everyone hates me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what do you think? I hope your taste in cars hasn’t changed,” I hear Scott say and I realise that he’s standing by my side again. I’ve got my hands on my knees as I bend forward to look at the car once again, how perfect it looks compared to the mess around it and Scott smiles at me nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s… Wow. Just wow,” I say like an idiot whose vocabulary is that of a seventh-grader.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something rattles and my eyes focus on the car keys in Scott’s hand. For some reason I haven’t put it together yet, is this really Scott’s car?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna drive?” he asks and he presses the button on the car keys to unlock the doors. “Come on, I know you want to.” He throws the keys my way and I catch them like it’s a reflex. They feel warm in my hand and I just get familiar to the feeling of them in my grasp for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?</span>
  <em>
    <span> I</span>
  </em>
  <span> can drive?” I ask him to make sure. If I damage this car in any way then it’s on him, he’s letting me drive. The keys already feel so comfortable in my hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said, right?” Scott passes me to get to the door of the car and as he does, his hand runs across my lower back. It’s only a light touch, he accidentally brushed past me with his fingertips. “Woah, are you cold?” he then asks when I shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know where that came from, must have just gotten chills from the weather so I simply nod. I hate having people look after me, I don’t wanna feel like a charity case but I haven’t had someone worry about me in a long time. And it’s Scott so he gets a pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door shuts with a bang and Scott is putting his seatbelt on in the passenger's seat. I better join him before he leaves me again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t going</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> fast,” I protest and Scott shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude you were going a hundred in a forty zone,” he says and he gives me a small nudge with his shoulder. Fortunately for us, Evergreen is a small town which means that cops aren’t usually out on patrol. I’d be sitting in the back of a cop car right now if they saw me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead, I’m in the front seat of the Porsche with Scott next to me. It’s one in the morning now and I should be tired but I’m not, the drive gave me a much-needed adrenaline rush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott promised me he’d get me more food, said it was only fair since he ate half my KitKat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I have my food now?” I ask and I glance at Scott’s lap where the plastic bag with our order is resting. He refused to give me my food before because he didn’t want me to make a mess in the car. I’ll try my best not to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes and then opens the plastic bag. His hand is rummaging inside of it and I’m getting excited, my mouth already watering at the smell when he takes out a bunch of napkins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I have to take extra precautions with you,” Scott tells me and one by one, he sets the napkins down in my lap. I feel like a kid except I’ve never had this as a kid because my parents didn’t care if I got dirty or not. Probably why I still act like a kid when I eat, never been taught otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” I huff but if this was my car, I wouldn’t trust myself inside it either. Especially with food, that’s a bad combination. Scotty covers my entire lap in napkins until there’s no more left and his hand rests on my knee for a couple of seconds. Even though I don’t flinch this time, my heartbeat increases. What the fuck? I’m not scared of Scott, I don’t need all this adrenaline going through my body every time he touches me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful with it,” Scott continues and he passes the cheeseburger to me. He doesn’t look away until I’ve taken a bite of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna watch me chew and swallow too?” I ask him and he pulls a face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s what it takes to make sure you don’t talk with your mouth full then yes,” he sighs and then he dives back into the bag to retreat his chicken burger. He’s more careful than me but he’s got manners, he licks his lips after taking the first bite and I look away. Let him eat in peace, Monty, he doesn’t need you staring at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this really is your car…” I say when I feel like it’s gotten too quiet. “Did you steal it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scotty almost chokes on a fry when he starts laughing at me. His eyes water from the almost choking and then he shakes his head at me. “No, some of us actually follow the law,” he says and I roll my eyes. Back to his bullshit. “I, erm, my grandpa got me it. For college,” he says with a shrug like it’s no big deal. I wish my grandad gave me something other than a fucked up dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky,” I say under my breath and then I reach into my box of large fries only to be disappointed because it looks like I ate them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can have mine if you want,” Scott says and he rushes to pass his fries to me. Someone’s eager to share with me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” I say and I absentmindedly move my leg so one of the napkins falls off my lap and onto the floorboard. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” I panic when Scott moves to try to pick it up. I don’t want his hands anywhere near my legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve never eaten faster than I do now, I finish all of Scotty’s fires in under a minute while he stares at me with his brow furrowed. I just wanna get out of this car as fast as I can, it’s getting hard to breathe. I take the napkins from my lap, scrunch them up in one hand and then shove them into the empty plastic bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you-” But I’m already getting out of the car. It’s even colder than it was before and I shiver.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We- </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> parked the car on a hill. This used to be my place whenever I felt like I needed a break from everything and everyone. I parked my Jeep and sat here until it got dark, then I could see all the buildings and the lights burning in the city like I can right now. Plenty of people know about this place and yet it always felt personal. And now I’m sharing it with Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” he asks and then a hand lands on my shoulder. I didn’t notice how tense I was until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laugh it off. “Huh? Nothing, I just needed some air,” I say. I’d sit down on the ground but the grass is icy with frost and I don’t feel like freezing my ass off today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s hand stays on my shoulder making my body feel all kinds of different things, a tingle there, a tingle here until my whole body feels tingly and my stomach is in a knot. He joins my side, standing so close that his hip lightly brushes past mine but doesn’t really touch me. It’s frustrating, just make your mind up, either step away or stop moving. I just hate getting nudged with his hip every few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can see your house from here,” Scott says looking down on Evergreen. I know he’s just trying to make conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doubt it,” I say and I exhale through my nose. “I can see Liberty from here though, look.” I point to the building in the distance that now looks smaller than my fingernail. I should be in that building in a few hours but I doubt I’ll be going, I’ll need at least a day to sleep this off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” Scott says and he leans even closer to me so that his hip is touching mine. I gulp and hold my breath. He’s so close that I can smell his cologne, I can see the vein in his neck pulsating with every heartbeat and my mouth turns dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how are the guys doing?” Scotty asks and just like that, he steps back, slides his hand down my back and there’s no contact whatsoever between us. I frown. Why is he asking about them now? He left, didn’t keep in touch with anyone and he cares </span>
  <em>
    <span>now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” I snap at him. It’s his fault that everything fell apart, Bryce went away, Zach started dating Standall and became fifty times weirder and everyone else, even Justin, they all went their separate ways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried finding new friends now that we’ve got new guys on the football team but it’s not the same, they don’t understand the importance of the team like Bryce and I do. I got left with nothing so excuse me if I don’t feel like talking about all of them now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turn my back on Scott. “You ruined everything when you left,” I mutter so quietly that I don’t even think he heard. But he did and I regret saying it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault so don’t act it is,” he scoffs. I was at least expecting an apology but he’s not sorry at all. I clench my fists by my sides because… because... I just know that I’m angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is! You-” I start but I can’t finish my sentence. I can’t come up with anything to say to blame him. Yeah, he left but he couldn’t have stayed in high school forever. I was just hoping he’d stay in touch and not leave me all alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that the group fell apart,” Scott says softly and I turn to face him again. “I really am. But it’s not my fault.” I stare down at the ground and I don’t reply because I know he’s right. But it’s easier to blame him than to admit that we fell apart without Bryce. Even Justin. I mean, he and I were in the same boat and I always felt somewhat connected to him. But he’s a Jensen now, I feel like I don’t even know him anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, look,” Scott says after a minute of silence. I look up at the sound of the frozen grass crunching under his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-” He’s looking up at the sky, grinning and I’m not sure what at until something cold lands on the tip of my nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s snowing!” he says like a child and laughs. It is. The sky is dark but I can clearly see white snowflakes falling faster and faster. One falls on my eyes, a few land in my hair and I look away to get the melted snow out of my eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott finds it funny. I keep shaking my head to get the snow out of my hair but it snows even harder and soon, my head is fully covered in snow that melts the second it makes contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so stupid right now,” Scott says and I look up to see that he’s only two steps away from me now. He’s not bothered by the cold, snow falls on his jacket, covering the shoulders in white and making his nose and cheeks bright pink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says you, Rudolf,” I say with a small grin and I reach forward and lightly poke the tip of his nose with my pointer finger. He pushes me away, both of us laughing as the snow falls on us. “We should head back before the roads get slippery,” I say when I notice the snow collecting on the windshield of the Porsche. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should…” Scotty says but he makes no attempt to move away from me. Actually, he steps forward, leans forward even and he won’t stop grinning. But then neither can I. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop myself and his eyes widen. That was stupid. But I mean it. I forgot what it was like to hang out like this only to mess about. And Scotty… He knows me and he knows who I am and he’s still here with me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when I think it’ll go awkwardly silent again and I’ll have to walk back to the car, “I missed you too,” he says with a small smile and I find myself smiling back. He has nice lips, a nice smile. I bet he has a girlfriend at college now. He’s been away for so long, I must have missed out on so much stuff in his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then another snowflake falls on the tip of my nose, followed by a second one that gets stuck to my eyelash. I frown, not liking the uncomfortable cold feeling on my face. Until it’s joined by a familiar warm touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s hand. He touches my nose, brushes the melting snowflake off and then steps even closer. Why do I lick my lips? Why do I glance at his? As I said, he has nice lips. And they’re so close to mine but he seems completely oblivious to anything I might be feeling, he’s too focused on brushing the snow off my hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I never realised how little he was. Obviously not little, he’s been able to drag me away from fights before not when I was too angry but still. What I mean is, he’s small. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re tiny like a girl,” I say with a stupid grin and Scott’s eyes immediately meet mine. Actually, I bet most girls are taller than him. He raises his eyebrows at me and he looks annoyed with me. It’s kinda cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let out a small chuckle at how easy it was to annoy him and something changes. It’s a gradual change, first his eyes soften, he stares at me blankly and then the frown disappears and he purses his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glance at them and before I know it, I’m leaning down, the side of my nose touches his and I can feel his rapid breathing washing over my skin. It’s so cold that our breathing forms condensation in the air, like a small fog cloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there’s no more condensation in the air because I’m sure we both stop breathing. I shouldn’t lean forward but I do. And he shouldn’t kiss me and I shouldn’t kiss him back but it’s just us. It’s never been just us. Now it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips are surprisingly warmer than mine which only makes me want to kiss him even more. I don’t even count it as kissing… my lips are just cold and I’m warming them up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is kissing. I’m kissing my best friend. I know it as soon as he grabs onto the hair on the back of my head and pulls my close. I sigh against his mouth and his grip turns gentle as he strokes his thumb backwards and forward over the nape of my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands are awkwardly by my side, I don’t know what to do with them, I don’t wanna touch him or anything to weird him out. It’s not like I’m gay and he kissed me first. But then Scotty’s warm hand finds mine and he gently puts my hand on his hip. That’s when I pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cough a little and I turn away from Scott before he can see my face. Kissing a guy is one thing, getting hard from kissing a guy is another. It was just a joke, I wouldn’t really kiss him. I’ve never even thought about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really starting to snow now,” Scott says casually like he hasn’t just been sucking on my tongue two seconds ago. “We should go before we get caught in a storm or something. Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Coming,” I say and I rub at my lips when I know that his back is turned. This time he sits in the driver’s seat and I scoff when I sit down next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not having you drive the car in a shit storm like this,” Scott says with a knowing grin. “I don’t feel like dying tonight. Keys.” I take the keys out of my pockets and I pass them to him reluctantly. I was starting to get attached to this car but it’s good to remember that it’s not mine. I don’t get to have the good things in life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns the radio on almost immediately and neither of us says a word for what feels like hours. He taps his thumb on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music but other than that, he seems pretty calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we going?” I ask. I look out of the window and I see that we’re in Evergreen but this isn’t the way to my house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Scotty stops tapping and his body visibly stiffens. “Uh… My place? I just thought that, you know, it’s late and your dad… so.” He clears his throat and his eyes keep looking up into the rearview mirror to observe my reflection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” I’ve stayed at his place plenty of times before and nothing weird ever happened. I actually fell asleep the fastest when I was over at Scott’s. My dad didn’t like it when I slept over at one of the guys’ house but I felt safer sleeping at Scott’s than I did in my own house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I used to stay up and wait for him to fall asleep, only then would he throw his arm around me and pull me into his chest. I didn’t push him away because I didn’t want to wake him up. I didn’t wanna make him lose sleep because I knew how irritable that made him in the mornings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So where are you staying?” I ask to make things a little less awkward. He might be back at his parent’s house and that means that they will be home. Scott’s parents would be around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember Marty?” Scott asks without taking his eyes off the road. I nod. Scott’s oldest brother, he’s almost twice Scott’s age. “He’s out of town so he lent me the keys to his apartment. It’s not that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penthouse you mean.” I correct him and he blushes. Scott never likes talking about money, especially around me for some reason, like he’s worried I’ll cry because I’m poor and he’s rich. Doesn’t work like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, penthouse,” he confirms and he keeps driving. It takes us another twenty minutes of awkward silence before the car stops and then Scott turns to me. “What about your Jeep? You left it back there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, I’m not that bothered. I shrug. “And it’ll be there when I go back for it tomorrow morning, no one would touch that junk.” I look at the dashboard of the Porsche and I get this sour taste in my mouth, it was fun pretending this car was mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure about that?” Scotty asks, getting my attention again. “Someone might take it to the scrapyard and take it apart for metal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” I say and he ends up laughing when I give him a light shove and just like that, the awkwardness is gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marty is a computer geek and a software developer so Scott has to enter at least four passwords and whatever else before the door finally opens. I’m pretty sure I see him sigh with relief. “I wasn’t sure about that last one,” he admits and then he goes inside with me following close behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights turn on as soon as we enter the room and they continue lighting up as we walk further into the room. I’ve only seen those kinds of lights in films before. It’s cool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do you want something to drink?” Scott says opening the fridge in the kitchen. I sit down on the black couch facing the glass wall. It’s still snowing hard, hasn’t stopped since it started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er, yeah, I guess,” I say and he takes out two cans of coke from the fridge. He throws one onto the couch and it rolls towards me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot, now it’s gonna burst if I open it,” I complain while he opens his and takes a sip. He laughs at me and then he begins walking towards me and trips on the flat surface of the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He manages to grab onto the couch just fast enough to stay on his feet but it doesn’t change the fact that he spills his drink down the front of his shirt. “Shouldn’t have laughed at me,” I say. I’m not a believer in karma, the world doesn’t work in ways to make it fair, but this is as close enough to karma as it gets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, wait here I’m gonna shower,” Scott says and he sets the can down on the table. Of course he could go to the bathroom without making much fuss but as he walks across the living room, he takes his jacket off, throws it into the other couch and then starts taking his shirt off. I pretend not to look but I can't relax until I hear the water running in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand slides down my chest. He won't let me breathe, he loves my lips and more importantly, he loves his lips on mine. My fingernails dig into his arms when he fingertips push past the band of my boxers, getting closer and closer to where the problem is. This is why I didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something makes my back burn, like a knife slicing at it and making an uncomfortable little cut and I wake up with a gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck! Sorry, she likes warm things,” Scott explains and I open my eyes fully to see what’s going on around me. He walks closer and closer and all I can think about is how close he was to me in my dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something is definitely pressing down on my back and then I see what it is when Scott picks ‘her’ up and holds it in his hands. A white cat with brown splodges all over its body. I glare at it for two reasons, first for disturbing the dream I had and second for digging her claws into my skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that?” I groan sleepily. I slept on my stomach with one of my legs up and my hand under the pillow, but I didn’t fall asleep in this bed. The last thing I remember is turning the TV on in the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a cat,” Scott says with a smile and then he cuddles that thing and holds it close to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no shit,” I say and I sit up and roll my shoulder back to wake my body up a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marty’s cat, I promised to look after it,” he continues and then he lets the cat down on the floor. She immediately runs out of the room. Lucky for her, I have to stay here and face the awkwardness of having to face Scott after I just dreamed about him getting freaky with me. I spend too much time around Charlie, his fag side is starting to rub off on me but he’s the only person willing to sit with me at lunch at Liberty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a diary?” I point to a notebook that Scott abandoned on the chair the second he stood up to get that thing off my back. It’s black, leather-bound and there’s a pen next to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott glances back and steps in front of it as if trying to block my view of it even though I’ve already seen it. “Uh… Yeah. I write in it every morning, helps me be more productive,” he says and then he looks around. “So what do you want for breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at the alarm clock on the nightstand, it's past ten in the morning which means that I’ve already skipped school and there’s no point going today. “Anything,” I say and then Scotty nods. On his way out of the room, he takes the journal with him meaning that I can’t read it like I was planning to. It would just be nice to know what he’s thinking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look through Marty’s closet after a quick shower. He’s slightly taller than me, definitely skinnier too but it’s miles better than wearing Scotty’s baby-sized clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I come out wearing black joggers that are way too big for me and a grey t-shirt that’s actually too tight but I couldn’t be bothered changing it. Scott is sitting in front of the TV with a box of doughnuts on the coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saved the pink ones for you, I know it’s your favourite colour,” he says without commenting on the fact that I borrowed his brother’s clothes. I wonder how long he’s gonna let me stay here, I don’t wanna go just yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So kind of you,” I say sarcastically but food is food and the stomach doesn’t care what colour it is. I eat the doughnuts getting sugar all over my cheeks and chin in the process so that my whole face feels sticky. I quickly wipe it with tissues from the box standing close by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how did I end up in your bed?” I ask Scott and he tears his eyes away from the TV. That’s where I fell asleep and I woke up in Marty’s room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes. “You fell asleep on the couch so I carried you to my brother’s bed so you wouldn’t hurt your back by sleeping on the couch,” he explains. “And for the record, I slept in a different room, I was just waiting for you to wake up. That’s why I was in your room when you woke up.” He looks away, shifting his gaze from one thing to another around the room and then he looks back at me to see if I believe him. Do I have an excuse not to?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carried? You mean dragged, right? I’m way too heavy for you,” I tease him because that’s safer than asking why he didn’t sleep in the same bed as me like we’ve been doing since we were kids. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. A jealous one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same thing,” he says and then he looks at me with those eyes… the same look he gave me last night just before-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the snow?” I ask walking over to the window and staring out of it. There are only traces of it left, some ice and brown snow on the sides of the roads. That’s disappointing. But at least I’m not missing out on throwing snowballs at the Down kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melted overnight,” Scott says like he knew this would happen. I hoped it would stay at least for a couple of hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s gotten comfortable enough to make fun of me for having no friends. “Yeah I can tell you haven’t played with anyone since I left, you’re shit at this,” he says and he pushes me back when I try to snatch his controller. Just because I only got two kills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, we’re on the same team here,” I remind him and then I try to aim at this one guy but I get shot from behind. That concludes the end of our nth round. We’ve been playing for hours, only stopping for small breaks. My phone eventually charged after Scotty let me use his charger and just as suspected, no one texted me apart from Estela. No one else gives a shit about me so why should I go back when I have Scott here with me?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re playing against each other now,” Scott says and he takes a sip from his glass. I do the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why against? You know I don’t stand a chance against you, it’s unfair,” I whin and Scott just grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try harder then,” he says and he starts the game before I even have the controller in my hands. Cheat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he wins. Kept shooting me every time I respawned until I got mad and refused to play anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Awe, come on, don't go to bed angry," Scott says in a stupid voice when I tell him I'm tired. "And it's only four anyway, why are you going to bed already?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dude, you kept me up all night yesterday. I'm fucking tired, I'm taking a nap," I snap at him and I leave Scott alone in the living room. He didn't even give me a chance to win the game like the dickhead he was, he pissed me off and I hope he enjoys having the cat as his only company. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lay down in Scott's bed in the guest room, still in my clothes and I wait there just in case Scotty comes by to apologise or something. I don't know why the game upset me so much but it did and I just want to sleep it off now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that I did. I slowly open my eyes to see the marks in my skin formed as a result of my nap. I look at the time on my phone also noticing the text from Estela in the process. She wants to know if I'll be coming home today 'probably not', I type. It's already seven in the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I'm surprised the cat or Scott hasn't woken me up but I've been left in peace. It's dark in the room and I've already gotten used to it turning dark after four in the afternoon, this is why I hate winter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then I move a little and something hard pokes me in the side. At first I think that it's that annoying cat again and I'm this close to shoving it out of bed when I run my hand over it in the dark and it's just a journal. A leather journal. I'm fully awake now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clumsily, I grab my phone and I shine the flashlight over the pages. Let's see what's been going on in his head then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What's weird is that I flip to the first page and it's empty. The second has some scribbles on it like a time and date. The third finally has some writing but when I read it, it looks like its just a draft of a poem that makes no sense to me. I forgot he was an English major the little weirdo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I flip through the pages, looking for something worth reading. This really isn't a journal, Scotty lied to me. I'm about to put it away when it opens on the last page. The last page… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first I just stare as my heart thuds in my chest. The outline of the body seems familiar just like the setting of the bed and the blanket falling over the figure to only cover his legs but leaving his back completely exposed. And his face may not be in the drawing but I know I'm him. That's me in the drawing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yo-you weren't meant to see that," a small voice behind me says and my hands stay where they are, holding the journal open and staring at the drawing to make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. The drawing is right there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… “ Scott walks over and he gently takes the journal out of my hands and holds it tight in his hands. I’m trying to think of an explanation for why on earth he’d draw me, I mean maybe he was just bored. But all I can think about is that drawing and how good he made me look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I thought you were sleeping in Marty’s room,” Scott says and he locks the journal in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. I wish I was, then I never would have found that drawing and my head wouldn’t be so fucking muddled right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I… What the fuck was that Scotty?” I ask him trying my best to stay calm but the more I think about it, the creepier it gets. “Why did you… </span>
  <em>
    <span>draw</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?” I sit up and scoot away from him, his face falls. It’s not like I’m scared of him I just… I’m freaking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a hobby,” Scott says casually but his hands nervously messing with his sleeve give him away. “I’m just practising. I’ve never had a chance to draw a person before.” He pauses, glances down at the bed and then sits down on the edge. “So what did you think of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m jealous at how easily and quickly he’s able to collect himself. My heart is still pounding, I feel like I got caught doing something I shouldn’t have been doing. But it was there for me to take it so I did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… Can I sleep over tonight? My dad, he’s… you know.” I don’t wanna think or talk about that drawing of me, it’s just so weird. And yet I still wanna stay over, no matter how weird Scott gets he’s still my friend. He stuck around when I was doing weird shit too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” he says quickly and he gives me a smile that looks a little bit too forced. He stands up and lets his arms swing by his sides. “I’ll clean up in the living room and then I’ll come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Come back? He’s gonna sleep here? With me? Of course you idiot, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> bed, I’m the one who’s intruding. He doesn’t tell me to go to Marty’s room so he’s okay with it.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one overcomplicating shit. We’ve slept in the same bed plenty of times, why should this time be different?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I go to the bathroom while he’s ‘cleaning up the living room’ as he said. I take a quick shower, wash myself with his stuff and it’s nicer than the three-in-one shit I have back home. I smell like him, my hair smells like his. I stand in the steamy bathroom, for a minute, just taking it all in and my mind wanders to places I don’t want it to because I bet this is what the bathroom smells like after he takes a shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not weird to think about this, I saw him coming out of the shower plenty of times in the locker rooms but he always covered up as did I. I didn’t want the creeps checking me out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scotty is in bed when I come back. He’s got the duvet wrapped around himself, there’s barely any left for me and he’s also sleeping on my favourite side of the bed. “Move, I wanna sleep on this side,” I say nudging his shoulder with my hand. He opens his eyes gradually and scowls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, I’m sleeping on this side,” he says and he pushes me back sleepily. It does nothing for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>fight you,” I say casually. He knows I’m stronger and when it comes to it, I will be able to beat him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ll lose just like you did in COD,” he says with a knowing grin. That’s the last straw. I push him back across the bed and it’s not as easy as I thought it would be. Scott grabs onto both my shoulders and holds on so that I can’t push him away. “Fine, I’ll move! Just let go of me,” he says and he won’t stop laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I’m no longer touching him, he moves to the other side of the bed and takes the duvet with him. “You have to share that with me,” I remind him and he laughs quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have to do</span>
  <em>
    <span> anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says cockily but then he unwraps the duvet from around himself and throws it onto my side. “Happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very, goodnight,” I say and I get under the covers. The weird thing is that he turns to sleep facing me and I have to turn on my other side. I don’t wanna fall asleep while looking at him, that’s something faggots do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, I lay awake in the dark for about five minutes and I admit that I can’t fall asleep like this. I turn to face Scotty and the bastard is grinning at me, he doesn’t look tired at all. “That’s creepy,” I say and I lick my lips. He just laughs at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I close my eyes and try to focus on sleeping but my hands are sweating and my heart is beating so fast that I feel like its making the bed shake. With my eyes shut, my other senses are heightened. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> him inching towards me and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> his breathing quicken. Or maybe it's my breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's too close to me, way too close. Too close for it to not be tempting. "What are you doing?" I open my eyes and he's still staring, neither of us is gonna fall asleep at this rate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath in and then exhales sharply. "I liked it when you kissed me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My heart stops momentarily and then I burst out laughing. "When </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>kissed you? You were the one fucking… Getting your lips all over mine." I chuckle awkwardly. Why is he acting like a fag all of a sudden? Maybe he drank something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott licks his lips and then I see his eyes flicker from one of my eyes to the other. "You kissed me back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why does he have to bring it up? I just wanna sleep. "Yeah… I didn't wanna embarrass you by pushing you back," I say without looking him in the eye. Why else did he think I kissed him back? I'm not fucking gay. I blame Charlie for this, he must have done something to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott's face hardens and he scoffs. "Right. Goodnight then." And finally he turns away from me and faces the wall. About twenty seconds pass and I see the duvet rise and fall with every breath he takes. He's breathing heavily like he does when he's pissed off. He's never been pissed off at me, usually, it was because he had a fight with his dad. He's a mommy's boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I extend my arm out and place it on his side. It just brushes past the bedding but he flinches and stares at me. "Sorry," I mutter. I don't wanna make him angry, he's the only person I never wanna let down or upset. I remember how he ratted me out, what he said to me but even back then he wasn't angry with me, he was just looking out for me and I let him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't say a word but turns back to the wall. I take my hand away. We lay on opposite sides of the bed, you could fit a whole school bus in the space between us. I want to say something but I don't know what. I hate feeling like I'm ruining it again, I don't want him to leave and forget about me again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you gonna keep in touch when you leave?" I whisper. Nothing. Silence. And then a stir. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want me to?" His voice is quieter than mine and he always goes quiet when he's nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The 'yes' gets stuck in my throat. I don't wanna have to tell him that I want him to keep in touch, why can't he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> it? So I don't reply and Scott laughs softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine, I'll keep in touch," he says because he knows me better than I know myself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” I whisper. I'm hugging the pillow tight because my arms feel empty and there's no way I'm gonna hug Scott. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But we lay there and we toss and we turn. We never face each other and we don't fall asleep either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is pointless," Scott groans and then the bed squeaks and moves as he turns on his side to face me. I'm staring at the wall but all it takes is for Scott to lightly touch my shoulder and I'm turning to face him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just close your eyes and mouth and sleep," I tell him. I roll my eyes, I don't want him to know that I can't fall asleep either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone's in a bad mood," Scott says and he sits up. He moves closer to me, just an inch or two and he looks down at me while my head is still resting on the pillow. But he's smiling like he always does when he's up to something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'm tired," I explain myself and I hope he drops it and leaves me alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No you're not," Scott groans and he nudges my leg with his. I break out in sweat and my heart does that weird thing again. I wish he didn't touch me so much. “Are you always so moody?” he asks and nudges me again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time I scoff and I turn away from him. I’m not fucking ‘moody’, I just wanna sleep and he’s distracting me like an idiot. It’s his fault that I didn’t get any sleep last night, he dragged me out in the middle of the night, and it’s his fault that I skipped school because he didn’t wake me up early. It’s all his fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’m only messing with you right?” Scott says quietly but I can’t see him, I turned away so he’d stop annoying me but he obviously didn’t get the hint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he really can’t take a hint. Scott’s hand gently touches my hair, it stays there for a second like both of us are completely frozen and then he gently pats my head. I’m not a dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I groan at him and I push him away. Maybe a little too harshly. He loses his balance and almost tips over the edge of the bed. I manage to grab his arm and pull him back just in time. That’s enough of an apology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell man?” Scott says and he pulls away. “You need to relax.” He gives me a small push but I deserved that, I don’t say anything. Even though I could argue and tell him that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> relaxed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” I mumble and the next thing I know, the lamp is being turned on. It’s not strong enough to light up the whole room but I can see Scotty clearly now. He looks serious, he’s sitting cross-legged by my side in his grey loose shorts and black shirt. I can’t help it that I lick my lips when I look at him, I do it when I’m nervous and I’m nervous because he’s acting weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this about the kiss?” he asks and I’d roll my eyes if I could move but my whole body stiffens at the mention of that again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you… Can you stop fucking bringing it up? I don’t wanna talk about it,” I mutter. I already talked about it with him, why is he </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking about it. Can’t he just drop it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he asks casually like it doesn’t bother him. But it bothers </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I like having Scott as a friend, he needs to shut up before he ruins it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not an answer,” Scott chuckles at me and he continues grinning. I swallow hard and then look to the side. “Just tell me you liked the kiss, Monty. It would make both of our lives easier.” I frown at him, unable to figure out if he’s joking or not. He doesn’t look like he’s joking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows I didn’t like the kiss so obviously I won’t say that. Does he think I’m gay? One kiss doesn’t make me gay. So I stay silent until Scott sighs, it looks like he’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>gonna leave me alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he isn’t. I stop breathing again when he moves closer. And this time he doesn’t stop, he moves so that his body is hovering above mine, his hand touching the wall and he slowly lowers his head until we’re at eye level and I don’t move a muscle so I don’t touch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No point trying. Scott closes the gap between us by gently pressing his lips to mine. I squeeze my eyes shut, I can barely feel it so if I can’t see it either then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t pull away and he takes that as an invitation to kiss me harder. I can’t ignore him now. Not now, not ever. Not when his lips are working on mine and his hand moves to tug at my hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I manage to turn my head to the side when it hits me and I realise what we’re doing. “What… What are you…” It feels wrong and it makes me sick that I don’t care if it’s wrong. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s your best friend for fuck’s sake, you’re not supposed to kiss him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls back but only to leave an inch of space between our lips and nothing more. Slowly, his hand slides down to my neck and it stays there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares at me for a couple of seconds like he's in a daze and he doesn't know what he's doing himself. But Scotty knows what he wants. At least one of us does. He leans in closer, his eyes focused on my lips only and then he swallows. "I wanna make you come," he whispers and then his lips are on mine again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don't remember ever being as breathless as I am right now. Not even after football practice. This is new. The way his lips are kissing mine, gently biting at my bottom lip while his thumb strokes my neck… no one's been able to make me feel like this. Ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just us," he whispers in my ear when his lips travel down my neck and leave small kisses all the way down until he stops to brush his thumb over my jawline. "Is this okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is it okay? Okay? No, it's not. Friends don't do this kind of stuff, they don't say things like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> to each other. I've had dreams about this, all kinds of different things that I hated myself for when I woke up. Just like I did this morning. But those dreams are nothing compared to what it feels like right now. I just have to learn to shut my brain off and not think about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod shakily even though somewhere deep inside, my brain is screaming at me to push him away. But it's just Scotty. I know him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don't notice that my dick's hard until Scott gets on top of me and presses his crotch to mine. He's just as hard, maybe this isn't as weird as I thought it was. He goes to college now, I bet he’s done this with a hundred guys now. People all turn gay in college, one of the reasons why my dad doesn’t want me to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands slide under my shirt and I laugh. It’s weird to think about how he’s taking his brother’s clothes off me. Scotty doesn’t stop, he just puts his lips on mine to shut me up. Which is stupid becuase then two seconds later he pulls away to pull the shirt over my head. That’s right, I don’t have to think about this as much if I keep making jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot,” Scott whispers while his hand runs down my chest and then he kisses me again before I can react. All I can think about are those times in the locker room, we changed next to each other but we never exposed too much. I wonder if he found me hot then, if he saw me and this is what he was thinking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I've kissed plenty of girls in my life, most of them happened at parties when I was half-drunk and I had no idea what I was doing. But everyone else made out with girls when they were drunk so I did too. But getting kissed by Scott is different, it feels so much better than any of those girls at the rich kid parties. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, my hands move by themselves and end up touching his sides. Just a light touch at first but his skin feels warm and he doesn't have those weirdly wide hips like girls do, he feels right. I grab on tight and my thumbs make small circles on his hip bones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He presses his body to mine and then pulls his lips away. I don't wanna stop because stopping means that I have time to think and I don't wanna think about this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs his fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face and then he smiles. It's contagious, the way he smiles at me showing off his perfect teeth. Show off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" I ask him and I surprise myself by how quiet my voice is. Don't think I've ever been quiet in my entire life. He only grins wider and then his eyes close again. He leans in and softly brushes his lips against mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna take your pants off now," he says and my heart beats just a tiny bit harder. His body moves down, his lips leaving small kisses down my chest, my stomach, my abdomen…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then his hands slowly tug my joggers down. I raise my hips to help him out and then he pulls my pants and boxers off my ankles. Scotty throws them onto the floor and then he looks back at my dick. It lays against my stomach feeling heavy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins at me and then trails his fingers from the tip to the base. "It kinda curves to the right," he says, his eyes following his finger as he speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck off," I whisper. I don't have the patience for this. I'm already breaking out in sweat just thinking about it. I don't wanna think about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you want me to stop-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't," I interrupt him when his brow furrows and he pulls back. I loosen my grip on his hips though and he bites his lip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay," Scotty says and then he leans in closer again to caress my cheek with his thumb. "You're safe here. You don't have to worry about anything." If only it were that easy. But I've got about a thousand things on my mind and I wish I could shut my brain off but I-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Feel my hand? Focus on my hand. Don't think," Scott says. Feel his hand? His hand is the only thing I can think about right now. How good it feels… when it shouldn't feel this good. Like he said, I'll try not to think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jerks me off with his hand, going slow at first so it doesn't burn. I look down at his hand and he stops. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when he parts his lips a little and a strand of saliva falls from his mouth. It drops on the tip of my cock and he spread it around with his thumb. I think I'm gonna die, it's impossible to feel this good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I only wanna make you feel good," he says softly and while his hand strokes my cock with his saliva acting as lube, he kisses my neck. "Does this feel good?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can't admit it, he can't expect me to. I hope my body language speaks for itself. He tugs harder and I grunt. "Fuck, I'm gonna come. Scotty… I'm gonna come."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I never thought these words would be coming out of my mouth but they are. And the next thing coming out of my mouth is a loud groan as I shoot come all over my best friend's hand and my stomach. My legs jitter, hips jerking slightly and I can't stop the gasps from escaping from my lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caresses the side of my face with his hand and shushes me softly. "Wasn't so bad was it?" he asks after I’m done and laying exhausted on the bed. I laugh. Nervous laughter that makes my heart pound. And reality sets in, what I let Scotty do to me? That's not normal, my father would kill me if he knew about this. No wonder no one wants to be around me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, hey. Monty, look at me," Scott says and he looks concerned. I don't understand why until I feel something wet trailing down my cheek and falling onto the pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sick," I sob. Normal people don't do this, I shouldn't have done this. I place my hands over my face just as Scotty reaches for the tissue box on the nightstand. He cleans off his hand and then my stomach. It doesn't matter, I still know what I've done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not sick, nothing about this is sick," Scott tries telling me. He rests his hand on my chest and then lays down on his stomach next to me with one of his legs still in between mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs my wrists and peels my hands away from my face. "You're not sick Monty, I know you're not." Easy for him to say, he's not had this idea drilled into his head since the day he was born. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then why do I feel so... " I wipe my eyes. And if </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn't enough, I also cried like a baby in front of Scotty. I'm sick of myself, I'm not supposed to be like this. "If my dad finds out-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's not going to. No one is," Scott reassures me and he kisses my cheek. "I meant what I said, you're safe with me." He says with a small smile. Why can he make me feel safe with just a few words? I'll admit, I've been scared for my life since… forever. Every second spent under my dad's roof is a second that I spend worrying about my safety. I'm always scared. I'm sick of being scared, I wanna feel safe. At least for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's on your mind?" Scott asks and I sigh deeply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How… my dad." I answer shortly and Scott nods slowly. He knows what I'm thinking. "It's nothing, forget about it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not ‘nothing’," he says grimacing. "Talk to me. You know I'm always here to listen."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm tired… " I try to get out of it. I don't feel like talking about my dad. I avert his eyes but he props himself up on his elbow so that his face is next to mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, just know that we're talking about it tomorrow," he says with a smile. He could smile his way through life and no one would question it. Tomorrow… does that mean another day of skipping school and spending time with my best friend? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever," I say. He already saw me crying, you'd think I'd drop the act by now. At least I know that he doesn’t buy it, he’s the only person who’s ever been able to see right through my bullshit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wake up with my arms wrapped around Scotty's chest. I almost forgot what it was like to be this close with someone. Don't get used to it Monty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My head is resting on his back, my cheek glued to his naked chest and I… I don't even have my underwear on, just the joggers but I still feel more exposed than last night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's still sleeping and it's only seven in the morning. I slowly move away and withdraw my arms as to not wake him. He moans sleepily and moves closer to me but I move back even further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His back looks smooth and all I wanna do is reach out and run my hand down his spine. I wanna feel all of it. But it's seven in the morning and school starts in an hour and a half. If I don't get home soon, I'm gonna be fucked. Really fucked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can't find my shirt from last night so I use one that Scotty has in his closet. It's just plain black and a size too big meaning it's perfect for me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look like a mess when I look in the mirror. Tight shirt, loose joggers, my hair sticking up all over the place and my face… it looks like I didn't sleep a wink. I did sleep a little, after Scotty ran his fingers through my hair and once again told me that it was all going to be okay. He made everything sound so simple and easy but now it's day and we're not safe in the dark anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could wake up right now and tell me to stay and I would. I even make a little bit of noise when I put my shoes on to try to wake him up. Please just stop me from leaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stirs a little when I drop my shoe 'by accident' but he still doesn't wake up. Instead, he pulls his pillow closer and rests his cheek on it. I'm sure I hear him mumble my name and my heart skips a beat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said he'll keep in touch. I never said <em>I</em> will. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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